Sunsets, Good Conversation And Hypnotic Moon Rises, OH MY!

Part of divorce, is splitting the holidays and missing some of them with your child altogether. This year Thanksgiving happened to be one that my son spent with his father. Which means he was also gone for his birthday. The last time this happened, post life explosion, I ran away to Kentucky for the holiday. I followed that boyfriend, who was there for work, and had an amazing trip. I loved that state, because HORSE COUNTRY!! Also? Cute boyfriend. ;) But escaping during holidays that I don't have my son, seems to be an excellent coping mechanism. 

This year, I wasn't able to fly off. But I had a fantastic holiday anyway. I worked out the morning of thanksgiving, went to coffee with friends. Thanksgiving dinner  with my parents at an inn on a nearby island. There was exactly ZERO prep and clean up, and the food was delicious. After dinner, we drove down to the beach for a quick view of the water, because it was a such a beautiful, crisp, sparkling day. I was home by 5pm, tucked into flannel PJ's and fluffy socks. I had my FireTV, an apple cider mimosa, a cozy blanket and the evening to myself. I have truly learned to embrace time to myself now, and I do enjoy it. I'm pretty sure I was asleep before midnight, lol!

Friday, I headed to Seattle for the afternoon, to have lunch at a new restaurant where my dear friend is a server. I hung out at her counter and enjoyed a lovely lunch, just because I could. After that, I picked another dear friend up from work. We stopped for a cocktail and then headed home. Again with the PJ's and movie time. Even worse? I was in bed by 9:30pm on a Friday night. LOL! It was raaaaad! 

Saturday morning was spent getting my nails done, and having a long overdue pedicure. I popped in to the boutique I used to manage for new gloves and boot socks. And there was coffee. There is always coffee involved in my *me time*. 

Saturday afternoon was special. I got to spend it with my new friend, J. Aside from advising me to wear warm clothes and have my phone charged up, our plan was a mystery to me. Our adventure began with my first eggnog latte of the season, and we mini-road-tripped North. J planned a 'Photo Challenge', so we needed to decide categories on the way to Deception Pass. We chose sentimental, black and white, silhouette and silly. Oh!! And the catch was that we needed to take the photos using a selfie stick, whether we were shooting in selfie mode or not. I looooved that addition to the challenge! 

 These were J's contest entries.

Black and white 

Silly

And silhouette 

We didn't get around to photographing the sentimental category, because LOOK at that SUNSET. AH-MAZE-BALLZ. 

Wait. It gets better. Really.

Absolutely stunning. The company, the views, the entire experience. We stopped for a delicious dinner and some revealing conversation on the way home. And THEN....THEN!!!! The MOON. It was huge, the richest golden buttery yellow color I've ever seen. It was mesmerizing. 

Sunday, I woke up and decided that I needed to go back to that new restaurant and enjoy some brunch, a mimosa, my friend and the Seahawks game. Because I could. :) And I coerced J to join me. 

I loved my holiday weekend. Just because life isn't going the way I envisioned it would, doesn't mean it isn't amazing. A month ago I said I hated how things were going for me. Now I appreciate that I was able to make some changes to alter the trajectory, as a result of being unhappy. I made some very big strides in letting go of toxic people during the last month. Perhaps this weekend was my reward. It sure felt like a win! 

I don't put a lot of merit into horoscope stuff. But part of the conversation on Sunday made me wonder. This is what I found. I hope it's true.

Should I Send Him A Screenshot Of His Alternate Routes To Work From Google Maps?

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.....When a couple breaks up, and part of their work commute is the same route.....new boundaries have to be drawn!!! 

GAWD.

Just when I'm not thinking about him as much, not missing him as much.....BAM! Truck tail lights in my windshield, bald head gleaming in the bright morning sun.  For 3.5 miles, it was his truck, and my car. So of COURSE I looked everywhere but AT him, and sang to the radio at the top of my lungs.  

He has another option on his route. I do not! 

FAAAAWK. 

Burning Books

When I found out I was pregnant with my boy, I devoured every pregnancy and parenting book I could get my hands on. What To Expect When You're Expecting, What To Expect The first Year, The Girlfriends Guide To Pregnancy. 

At 6 months of age, my boy wasn't quite   meeting milestones that were outlined in 'What To Expect The First Year'. I spoke with a few friends who reassured me that he was just "on his own time frame", or "he will catch up." I continued to read the books, websites and talk to friends while keeping a close eye on him.

At 8 months old, I grew very concerned. The milestones he wasn't reaching were beginning to pile up, boxes void of check marks. He was unable to sit up by himself.....and the familiar sentence "If your baby isn't meeting two or more of these milestones, get in touch with a medical professional. Early intervention is key." He was almost 9 months before I was able to get him in to the pediatrician's office to talk about my concerns. That pediatrician immediately said "I've been concerned about your son since the day I met him."

What? 9 months ago?! You didn't express your concerns to first time parents, as soon as you noticed a problem?! WHAT in the actual FUCK?! He ordered a host of blood tests, and sent us off to the lab. As I sat there with my baby in my lap, my head was spinning. The blood draw quickly turned into a nightmare. The phlebotomist didn't have pediatric experience, much less infant. I called off the lab work and insisted on a visit to Children's hospital instead. 

Upon going home, I did 3 things. Thing The First....called my husband to give him an overview. Next, I fired our pediatrician, and hired a new one. Best decision EVER. We still see her, and I would move out of state and follow her if she ever left. We love her that much. And lastly, after putting my son down for a nap.....I picked up that book. What To Expect The First Year. I walked out onto my deck with hot tears streaming down my cheeks, and hucked that sucker helicopter style, into the back yard fire pit. I knew immediately that there was no manual for the world of parenting I was about to enter. 

A Small Piece Of The Story

I lost two babies in 2007. We (my ex husband and I) finally worked up the nerve to try to give our son a sibling. It took 7 years to get to a place where we felt like we could. Our son had Chiari Malformation decompression surgery in January 2006, and his quality of life was better than ever. We celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary with a trip to Maui in August of that same year. We had a beautiful, intimate vow renewal on the beach. We were in a healthy, happy point in our lives as special needs parents, and as a couple. I threw out my birth control pills on the second day in Maui. 

We got pregnant pretty quickly. My pregnancy with my son had been glorious. No morning sickness, I was stacked like a porn star, and every test came back positive for good things, and negative for bad. It was a breeze. His delivery was NOT. But that's another story.

At 12 weeks, we went in for an ultrasound. I had some spotting while we were on a camping trip the previous weekend, but I wasn't terribly worried. I had some spotting with my first pregnancy too, and it turned out to be nothing. My husband got the day off work, and we were going to get our little Polaroid photo, and go have lunch. We were joking around about trying to decipher our little *gummy bear* out of the shadows of the grainy ultrasound printout. 

The technician first put the Doppler wand on my belly, to try to find a heartbeat. No heartbeat. She confirmed my dates, and then used the actual ultrasound to try to see our baby. The screen awoke, and there was our gummy bear! I smiled and my eyes filled with tears. She took some measurements, and again confirmed my dates. I knew immediately something was wrong. There was no movement. Our baby was lying on it's back, and we had a perfect profile view. I stared at the screen, willing it to show me the flutter of a heartbeat. Any kind of movement at all. When she took the measurements, I saw that the computer assigned them a size measurement of 8 weeks. The technician turned off the screen, and excused herself from the room. When the door closed, I burst into tears and told my husband "There's no heartbeat!" He made comforting noises, and was trying to be positive. When the technician returned, she explained what she could, but instructed us to wait for my OB/GYN to call.

There was no heartbeat.

I don't remember the rest of that day....what we did, or even the OB/GYN call. I remember that my fears were confirmed. And I remember feeling what I can only guess, was my heart shattering into tiny shards. 

I can't go into details about how I miscarried, or why the Catholic hospital  my OB/GYN's office was affiliated with demanded I go through a very traumatic and painful miscarriage, induced by medication at home. I can't go into the details because it still hurts. It was psychologically, emotionally and physically..... Tearing. It tore my soul wide open. 

I couldn't stand the unfairness of this loss, following the unfairness of my son's struggles and pain with ACM1. This kind of thing wasn't supposed to keep happening to good people, DAMN. IT. 

I spent the next 2 weeks in a fog. Some of it medication induced. I needed to be allowed to feel emotional pain only in small doses. Even writing about it now, I'm a little dizzy, and need to stop. I'm aware right in this moment that a torn soul....perhaps never fully heals.

To be continued.....

Ow

My heart hurts.

Oops. I Did It Again.

Even Britney has dry spells. This one makes me feel a LOT better than THIS one......

Pity, Party Of One

Two couples that split right around the same time Text Dumper and I did, have gotten back together. 

I seem to choose the ones who walk away with no hesitation. The ones who never look back. 

I'll just be over here, eating popcorn. Watching a(nother) Netflix marathon.....Orange Is The New Black. 

Hope

And That's When I Stopped Being Vulnerable

I told a friend last night about the moment my ability to be vulnerable was broken. I woke up 7,000 times last night and that incident hit me right between the eyes every time. Writing about it now, is my attempt to put it to rest. This is one of those things that endless rehashing won't help. 

It was my 15th wedding anniversary. My ex and I were in Maui to celebrate. Things had been rough for several months, and I was going to counseling to try to work on myself. I wanted to do everything I could to help my love and I through what I saw as a *rough patch*. Before the trip, I talked to my counselor about what I hoped would happen. I told him that I needed to hear my husband say that he still thinks I'm beautiful. He hadn't said it in months, and I was thirsty for affirmation of any kind. I wasn't the kind of woman who needed constant reassurance and compliments. But I needed something resembling affection. The counselor suggested that I tell my husband exactly what I needed from him. 

On our second day on Maui, my husband asked if I wanted an anniversary gift, or wanted to go to a certain restaurant to mark the milestone. I told him "No gifts or restaurants necessary. I'm just happy to be here with you, and have you all to myself. There is something I'd like to hear from you though. I need to hear that you still think I'm beautiful after all of these years."

His response?

"Well that's awfully NEEDY of you."

I replied "I thought that telling you what I need, instead of making you guess, and then being upset with you for not guessing correctly, is very healthy of me."

His response to that? *grunt* 

He refused to say I'm beautiful. He refused to compliment me in any way, ever again. Three months later, he left.

Something inside me broke that day.

It took me over a year to tell my next love, that I was in love with him. When I did, he reciprocated. But never said it again. Three months later, he left.

Both of those men taught me that it wasn't safe to be vulnerable. They both punished me for expressing my feelings. I used to be SUCH a good emoter. Mad? Be angry! Sad? Bawl! Happy? Sing it from the rooftops!

Last weekend, my friend told me I'm beautiful. It was unsolicited, and part of a soft rejection. The first rejection I've experienced since the life explosion, that I knew without a doubt, wasn't about me...but about him taking care of himself and his own life situation. A handsome, eloquent, funny friend called me beautiful. I turned to instant girl-goo internally. In the moment, I thanked him with all of the formality of someone who held the door open for me at the post office. 

Every day for the next 4 days, I typed out a text 'thank you'. Every draft was deleted and never sent. For some reason last night, I got brave and typed up a text that said "I wanted to tell you how nice it was that you told me I'm beautiful on Saturday. I haven't heard that in awhile. I don't need to hear it all the time, but I didn't hear it once from TD (text dumper). Until you said it Saturday, and I turned into a puddle of girl-goo inside, I didn't realize how much I missed hearing that. So thank you." I hit 'send' with no hesitation. Well.....with little hesitation. His response was perfection. His response helped me realize that not every man in my life, romantic interest or otherwise, was going to squish me emotionally for showing vulnerability. That sometimes they will even applaud me for showing my gooey, girly, and sometimes dark and twisty insides. It was incredibly healing. 

I also realized that it was a (weird) gift to know exactly what emotional event had caused me damage. I don't have to dig through that pile of emotional baggage to know which moment needed healing. I finally saw my ex-husband's carelessness with my feelings as HIS damage. That wasn't about me at all. He was already seeing his mistress, and had checked out of our marriage. I just didn't know it yet. I wasn't ugly or unlovable.

He was. 

Dating Sabbatical

Alright. I've been single now for a month, give or take a couple of days. I'm not over my last guy. Not completely. I keep seeing him on the road. Saturday afternoon I saw him with a passenger in his truck on my way to a Halloween party. My heart sank into my rain boots, and my eyes welled to overflowing with hot tears. And last week there was that incident where I let my son play with my phone at a restaurant.....and he dialed THAT number. 30 minutes later, my phone was ringing....from THAT number. It was a 10 second, completely uncomfortable conversation which established that 1) It was an accidental dial by my boy, and 2) that he really didn't want to talk to me. It actually sounded painful. And of course my girl-brain went into overdrive.....

"I didn't leave a message, so why did he return the call? He said he figured it was an accidental dial, so why did he call? We always texted, both hating to speak on the phone....why did he call? Why didn't he text? WHY DID HE CALL?!?!"

Lather, rinse, repeat.

*sigh*

I now know that I don't easily let go of people I let into my life. He was a good man. He made me laugh every day. We were compatible in every way when we were together. He wasn't that into me. That should be it, right? Let go! I'm trying. I really am. But I miss the companionship, and the banter. I miss being wrapped in the arms of someone I care about.  I think when you break up, you should establish who wins which drive routes to work. "You win Highway 9, but I need to use a 2 mile stretch of it at around 8:00am......" It would be easier if I didn't keep seeing him out and about. Maybe.

My heart just isn't up for any serious entanglements. Unless I can be completely over the last guy, it isn't fair to anyone new. My heart also isn't up for any flings. I don't do well with those.  When I love, I love hard. I haven't found anyone since my divorce who can handle that, or wants that. Or who isn't intimidated by my life and all that it includes. My boy and I are a package deal. Period. 

I'm putting the thought of dating, online or otherwise, to rest indefinitely. I'm going back to what I know works for me....focusing on my son, our home, and our friends and family. My heart can't take any more abuse. 

I'm single, and it will take someone pretty special to change that.

Losses That Are Actually Gains In Disguise

It took a few years to understand that part of parenting a special needs child, is accepting that there will be little losses all along the way. I didn't just decide to accept that he would have struggles, and  continue on....business as usual. I came to realize that with the little losses, there are also little AND big victories. My boy is almost completely non-verbal, but he is able to communicate his needs to me fairly well. He isn't potty trained, but I never have the panicked "I have to pee!" yell from the back seat while driving across the top of a mountain pass.

I've only recently figured out that this also applies to letting go of a failed marriage, and the anger of having been betrayed and subsequently raked over the coals. My ex husband had an affair, but I no longer have to watch him pick his toenails in my bed! 

Yay me.

I've recently been through another court action, and it SUUUUUCKED. I *get* that opposing counsel is paid to be assholes. I hope opposing counsel can sleep at night after saying the things she did about me. I also hope she had such helpful advice for her own client with regard to monthly finances. It's almost funny....except it's disgusting.

Anyway, anger. I have that. Lots of things I thought I'd worked through have been tickled by this legal action. I'm a big believer in working through my shit (see yesterday's post) and putting it to rest. So I'm making a conscious decision to let out the venom, work through it, and move on from it. I have a couple of friends who are in the throes of divorce right now. It has been helpful for me to talk with them about what they're going through. Sure, it's stirring up old wounds for me. I'm taking that as a sign that I really hadn't finished slogging through it. I'm choosing to look at the old monsters with both of my big green eyes, stare those fuckers down, squack and whinge, and put it to rest. I've sounded off about a few things with my friends these last few weeks, and have been successful at feeling like I ticked a few off my list of 'Things That Instantly Piss Me Off And Keep Me Awake At Night'. Losses and wins. One step at a time.

What Not To Say

It's a universal truth that people don't know how to deal with something they've never been through themselves. 

Doesn't mean they won't try to tell YOU how to slog through your shit storm. 

Yes, they're trying to help you. Yes, they mean well. NO, you don't have to take their suggestions to heart. I have mastered the art of nodding along while they philosophize about how I should be handling my crap.

Something I learned in counseling during The Life Explosion, is that the only way through it, is through it. Hip waders on, clothespin firmly clamped on my nose. Shit shovel gripped in my rubber glove-clad hands. Now DIG. 

Even if you've already dealt with a particular layer of your shit sandwich, sometimes a person will try to feed it to you again. And again. And again. You're supposed to be learning something about it, or yourself. Sometimes it takes several whiffs of eau de poo-poo, before you really grok the lesson. Having someone say "we've already been through this...." Doesn't help. People who say that? KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF!! 

Here's a list of unhelpful things you shouldn't say to people who are going through some crap.

"You should just...." OR! "You need to...." Really? I *should* or *need to* just what? Should I *just* stop thinking about that thing that destroyed my life as I know it? I *need to* get over it already? Why? Because you are tired of hearing about it? Why didn't I think of that? It's so easy!!! I could've just gotten over it? WHO KNEW?! 

"Forgive them and move on". Again with the 'why didn't I think of that?' *facepalm*. The degree of betrayal is directly related to my personal ability to stop rehashing something. And when there is 3+ years of slander from the gaping maw of my ex husband's mistress....guess who is going to be unwilling to *forgive and forget* just because she's (the trollop) suddenly decided she wants to behave like a 17 year old instead of the mean girl middle schooler she has been for 3+ years? ME. NO, I actually DON'T give a shit what she said about me. But she also can't expect me to EVER be willing to have any kind of relationship with her, after all of the poo flinging, and without any acknowledgement of what she did. They did me a favor. Life is SO much better without him in it daily. Doesn't mean I'm ready or willing to pretend it never happened!! 

"Be thankful, and only look at the good stuff." I am thankful. And some days, I have been thankful for the only thing I could think of TO be thankful for....air to breathe. There have been days  that I was face down on the carpet, crying my eyelashes off.....and all I could conjure to be thankful for, was air. Don't try to offer your take on all the good stuff you can see in your friend's life, when she can't even get off the floor. 

People need to get through the day, any way we can. I think the best thing you can do for anyone who is struggling, is to listen. Truly listen. Let them speak, cry, and rage without inserting your opinion in any way. Hug them. Hold the pillow steady while they punch the ever loving shit out of it. Let. Them. Work. Through. Their. Shit. Say nothing. After they've released some steam, tell them you love them no matter what. Tell them you're sorry they're struggling. Just BE there.